I'll Be Here
by kittens-everywhere
Summary: Al's easy to love; Maddie had fallen hard for him and loved him desperately. Then he was gone, and there's nothing she could do about it. But maybe she'll learn to be okay. Past Ame/fem!Can and maybe-sort-of-beginning UK/fem!Can. AU.


Inspired by the song "I'll Be Here," sung by Linda Brescia for Adam Gwon's musical Ordinary Days.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or the song "I'll Be Here"

* * *

It's accidental, falling in love with Al. Maddie runs into him on a snowy New York City street, drops her purse, and when she reaches for it, their hands brush. When she looks up, she meets bright blue eyes and an easy smile, one she can't help returning.

"I'm sorry," he says, then pauses. "I'm Alfred."

After that, it's history. He takes her to his favorite coffee shop in the City the next day, and a week later, they find themselves bickering over the best bakeries in town. By the time spring comes around, they are exploring Central Park and she is letting herself be dragged to baseball games and nights out dancing.

Before she knows it, months have gone by, and Alfred is on his knees in their favorite Italian restaurant asking her if she'd spend the rest of her life with him, and Maddie accepts with teary eyes and an elated smile.

They marry on a cool, clear September morning and Maddie is floored by his wide grin and the tears in his eyes. It feels like her whole world is at last beginning.

A year goes by so fast: they go from newlyweds to looking at houses in the suburbs and thinking about children, and their days are filled with laughter and smiles and easy companionship.

On the day of their first anniversary, they decide to picnic in the park. The day's perfect for it: there's not a single cloud in the sky, and she had woken up to a pleasant breeze and birds singing and Alfred's kisses all across her cheeks.

He has to stop into work for a few minutes that morning to drop off some papers for his boss, so Maddie sends him away with a smile and heads to the bakery down the street to pick up a cake.

She is paying for her dessert when she hears the news. She doesn't believe it at first, can't believe it, but she when rushes out of the shop, she hears the sirens and sees the smoke, and that's when she feels the dread growing in the pit of her stomach, heavy and harsh.

The only thought in her mind beyond the panic is that she needs to get back to the apartment, to make sure Alfred is safe, but all that's waiting for her is the message that plays his last words.

_Maddie, sweetheart, I love you, okay? I just want you to remember that, Maddie. Please, just—_

She sobs into the wool of the old, well-loved jacket he'd inherited from his father for hours.

Those first months after The Event—she can't bear to think of it any other way—are passed in a daze, and Maddie doesn't remember very much of them. All she recalls is waking up every night and reaching across the bed in search of Alfred's warmth.

There are little bits of Alfred all over the apartment, things like the autographed baseballs sitting in the hutch in their room and his worn _Batman_ comics. His bomber jacket is always draped across the back of the couch, next to the star-spangled throw blanket his grandmother had made for them when they announced their engagement. It still smells like him, and Maddie wears it on the nights she misses him most. It's not the same as his hugs or the weight of his arms around her shoulders, but it's a piece of him, and it's all she has.

It is spring again when Arthur moves into the apartment next to hers, and Maddie discovers that it's nice to have a new neighbor to talk to. He's just moved from London to work with a big accounting firm, he says to her when she brings him a casserole in welcome. He invites her in for dinner and although Maddie declines, they spend a few minutes chatting, and she heads home with a tiny smile on her lips.

That night, she tells her husband's grinning picture that she thinks he'd like him.

Maddie doesn't see much of Arthur the first month after he's moved in; they both have plenty of things to do, and Maddie isn't much for going out anymore. Everywhere she goes, she is reminded of the things that she and Alfred loved to do. It's hard enough being in her apartment a lot of the time. She's not sure she can deal with _outside_ too.

Then comes July 4, Alfred's birthday, and Maddie covers her face with her pillow to muffle her weeping and refuses to get out of bed despite the phone calls from worried friends and family. She doesn't want to be around anyone but her husband. What's there to celebrate without Alfred beside her?

After that, she begins to pack Al's things away, because she can't stand the pain of seeing all the little parts of him but not Alfred himself. Into boxes go the baseballs and the comics and the blanket, and under the bed go the pictures and the housing catalogues and the baby name books. Her hands shake violently when she shoves the bomber jacket into the back of the closet, behind her heavy winter coat.

All she keeps is her wedding band, a thin strip of gold glinting around her ring finger.

The next morning, she rolls over, half asleep, and thinks she'll ask Alfred if he wanted to spend the day down the shore. She's halfway through "We should go to Seaside" when she remembers that there will no more lazy summer days lounging together on the beach. She is almost sick to her stomach, and it's another day spent in her bed, hiding under the covers.

Later, it will occur to Madeleine that she doesn't remember all that much of her first summer alone (for it feels like Alfred's always been there; it's hard to imagine how she'd lived before him and how she'll live after him). She tries to go through the motions, though, because there are bills to be paid and housework to do, but her heart isn't really in it. She just wants Al to come home (her most cherished fantasy is Alfred walking through their front door, calling to her with his brighter-than-stars smile, but she knows it will only ever be that: a dream).

So it's almost despite herself that Maddie starts to strike up a friendship with Arthur. It's hesitant and cautious, at first, but she finds nice to have someone to eat dinner with, on those days when she is tired of being alone, and she enjoys having someone to cook for again. Arthur is hopeless in the kitchen (he burns everything, he tells her sheepishly, when she comes to check on him after smelling the smoke drifting out of his apartment. It's the first time she laughs in a long time). He isn't quite as vocal in his approval of her food as Alfred used to be, either, but he smiles at her and tells her it's wonderful of her to do this for him:

"Really, Madeleine," he says between mouthfuls, "you're too kind."

Maddie just shakes her head and responds, "It's my pleasure."

They continue with their frequent dinners throughout the summer, and for awhile Maddie starts to feel almost normal again. It's nice: she cooks, and sometimes Arthur reads aloud or they chat—about her flowerboxes, or his crazy brothers, or the Shakespeare plays he likes to catch on the weekends.

A year goes quickly, and despite the haze that Maddie's been living in, she starts to think maybe she's sort of okay again. On September 11th, though, Maddie finds herself spending the day weeping in a church. She hasn't been to one since Alfred's funeral, but the stained glass and the hard wooden pews are comforting, and she stays there until the priest touches her shoulder and smiles sadly at her.

Arthur doesn't know anything about Alfred. It's nothing against him; Madeleine never talks about Alfred with anyone because the thought of talking about Alfred like he's gone makes her heart ache and her throat tight. But when Arthur starts asking her out (he wants to go to the museum or to a show on Broadway, or even just out for lunch, and she knows it's more than friendship because his eyes are so very bright when he looks at her) Maddie wishes she had the courage to tell him why she says no.

Sometimes when he asks her, she wants to yell at him, to shake him and scream, "No! I'm married! I can't go out with you!" But she isn't really anymore, is she? And she likes Arthur, she does. She thinks maybe in another life, she could love him, too. But he's not Alfred, and that's his greatest flaw.

The worst is when he asks her to the restaurant where Al proposed to her a lifetime ago. She used to love the place; it had been her favorite, and she and Alfred made sure they went at least every few weeks, but ever since Al… Well, she can't really bring herself to go anywhere they frequented together. Arthur is horrified when Maddie bursts into tears at the mention of the restaurant and tries his best to comfort her even though he hasn't got a clue why she started crying in the first place. It's sweet of him, some distant, rational part of her brain thinks, but the rest of her is a wreck, and she tries to tell him that it's not his fault and that he couldn't have known about the memories.

He doesn't understand, not one bit, but he sits her down in his apartment and makes her a cup of tea and dries her eyes with the ends of his sleeves.

After that, things are a little bit awkward between them: she has trouble meeting his eyes when they pass in the hallway, and although both of them try not to let it stifle their friendship, their dinners become less frequent. It hurts, because she doesn't know how to change things or how to make Arthur understand (but she does know that she's not ready to share Alfred with anyone, and she's not ready to let him go. Not yet.)

Winter comes, as it is wont to do, with a sudden burst of cold. She's searching for her coat when her fingers brush the leather of Al's old bomber jacket. She jerks her hand back, as if stung, and stands wavering in the closet doorway. After what seems like ages but is really only a moment, she reaches out uncertainly and pulls the jacket down from its hanger. It feels the same as it did when he wore it: the leather soft from use and the wool is worn and a little thin. She strokes the sleeves gently and sinks to the floor. When she holds it to her chest, she can smell the shampoo he used, and it feels like he's there with her, warm and gentle and loving. "Alfred," she whispers, trembling. Her eyes burn and blur, and she takes a slow, shaky breath. It's been a long time since she let herself miss him, so she buries her face into the last thing that smells like him.

She doesn't know how long she sat like that, in the doorway of her closet, but she thinks she must have dozed, because she hears Alfred's voice whispering into her ears.

"Hey, Maddie," he says, and she clamps her eyes tight and tries not to sob. "Shh, shh, sweetheart. It's all right."

Maddie says nothing—she can't, her throat's all closed up, and she doesn't know if this is all a dream—so Alfred continues.

"It's okay, you know." He begins. "To move on, I mean. You can let Arthur in."

"Al," she croaks into the jacket. "I…"

"Maddie, it doesn't mean you'll stop loving me. It just means that you'll heal, that's all. And I'll be here, Maddie, I'll always be here, even if you toss the baseballs to make room for Arthur's books or if you sell the _Batman_ comics so there's space in the closet. It's okay. You can let yourself be happy without feeling guilty. Don't stop living just 'cause one part of your life is over, Maddie. You have so much to look forward to. And…" He pauses here, and his voice is a little wobbly. Maddie is weeping openly now and when he continues, it sounds like he's holding back his own tears. "And Arthur likes you a lot, Maddie. You've gotta give him a chance. Don't let me hold you back."

"No!" She cries, but can't bring herself to turn to him, because what if he's not there? "Alfred, no, you could never…"

"I love you, Maddie," he says, "remember that, and live."

"I love you, too, Al. I love you," she sobs. For a moment, he is everywhere, and she feels the ghost of his lips on her cheeks, and then he's gone. Maddie breaths him in deeply, steels herself, and stands.

The next afternoon, she tells Arthur "yes" when he tentatively asks if she'd like to see _Twelfth Night_ with him and swears that she can feel Alfred smiling at her, pleased.

* * *

"_Hey, you're allowed to move on_

_It's okay_

_Because I'll be here_

_Even if you decide to get rid of my favorite sweater_

_Even if you go out on my birthday 'stead of sitting at home letting all of life's moments pass by_

_You don't have to cry_

_Because I'll be here when you start going back to the places we went together_

_When you take off your ring and you let yourself smile"_

-"I'll Be Here"

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Note:

This is another fic cross-posted to my tumblr. It's actually the first one I'd uploaded there! (And the first fic I'd allowed on the internet in a long while. u_u)


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